Rainclouds
Cadet
<span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>If You’re Not the One</span>
Summary; My version of Vaughn’s two years without Sydney
Relationship; S/V
Genre; Romance mainly, but some angst
Rating; PG-13 to be on the safe side
Spoilers; Up to the end of “The Telling” is fair game. I have yet to see any of season three, so I can’t spoil it can I?
A/N 1; I’m living in denial people, over here in the UK those poor students (e.g. me) who only get terrestrial have only just seen “The Telling” (and it was on at midnight – I can’t be the only one outraged by that!), therefore we can live in the naïve belief that Vaughn isn’t really married……Right?!?
A/N 2; Please bare in mind that this is my first dabble into the murky world of alias fanfiction, so any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer; I don’t own them, JJ Abrams and the nice people at ABC etc do (they keep them in a box under the bed). Although, if you’re bored feel free. I have precisely £1.58 to my name – you won’t really get much will you? The song “If you’re not the one” was both written and performed by Daniel Beddingfield and comes from his album “Gotta Get Thru This”.
Part 1/3
If you’re not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?
If you’re not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?
If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call
If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all
I never know what the future brings
But I know you are here with me now
We’ll make it through
And I hope you are the one I share my life with
I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand
If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?
Michael Vaughn decided that he was the luckiest man in the world – he had the privilege of calling himself Sydney Bristow’s boyfriend. THE Sydney Bristow. The girl who was the fantasy of every male on the planet. The beautiful, sexy, honest, loving, “perfect” Sydney Bristow was his. She has his to hold, to protect, to love so completely that it was hard for him to breathe. She was his to run baths for, to walk with, and to kiss. She was his to comfort, to sleep next to, to whisk away on romantic breaks to Santa Barbara, where he was fully planning on getting down on one knee, telling her exactly how much he loved her and asking her to do him the honour of being his forever.
He grinned as he pulled up at the red light and fingered the ring box in his pocket. He’d dropped Syd off and gone to pick up the simple, but elegant, square cut diamond and platinum ring that he knew was perfect for her, before heading for the debriefing which he was currently late for.
As he sat in the heavy traffic, he pictured Syd’s expression (hopefully smiling with those beautiful dimples of hers on full display) as he said the 28 words he had planned in his head as she threw her pager into the vast depths of the Pacific:
“Sydney Anne Bristow, I have loved you since you came crashing into my life with that crazy hair. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
He could picture her on their wedding day, walking down the aisle towards him on Jack’s arm, drawing gasps at her beauty from the gathered congregation, her beautiful brown eyes full of tears and a large smile on her face as Jack stared proudly at his daughter. He could envisage their large house with white picket face, their dog, the moment that she told him she was expecting his child, the birth of their child following a long labour throughout which she remained strong despite the pain she was in. He could see his daughter’s face, the dark curls and dimples which were the tell tale signs that she was her mother’s daughter, the green eyes that showed she was his. He imagined her first smile, laugh, steps, the arrival of brothers and sisters for her until he pretty much had his hockey team. He could picture their first dates, their wedding days, the births of their children. He could envisage his whole life and Sydney Bristow was by his side for every step of it.
The honk of a horn from behind, pulled him from his blissful daydream as he moved off into the traffic and headed towards the Ops Centre for the debriefing, which, whilst it lasted for 4 hours, was uninformative. After a short conversation with Weiss he headed back to his car and set off for Syd’s apartment.
TBC?
What do you think? I already have the rest of the fic written out on paper, but have to type it up, but won’t bother if no one likes it
Thanx
Lara
Summary; My version of Vaughn’s two years without Sydney
Relationship; S/V
Genre; Romance mainly, but some angst
Rating; PG-13 to be on the safe side
Spoilers; Up to the end of “The Telling” is fair game. I have yet to see any of season three, so I can’t spoil it can I?
A/N 1; I’m living in denial people, over here in the UK those poor students (e.g. me) who only get terrestrial have only just seen “The Telling” (and it was on at midnight – I can’t be the only one outraged by that!), therefore we can live in the naïve belief that Vaughn isn’t really married……Right?!?
A/N 2; Please bare in mind that this is my first dabble into the murky world of alias fanfiction, so any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer; I don’t own them, JJ Abrams and the nice people at ABC etc do (they keep them in a box under the bed). Although, if you’re bored feel free. I have precisely £1.58 to my name – you won’t really get much will you? The song “If you’re not the one” was both written and performed by Daniel Beddingfield and comes from his album “Gotta Get Thru This”.
Part 1/3
If you’re not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?
If you’re not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?
If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call
If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all
I never know what the future brings
But I know you are here with me now
We’ll make it through
And I hope you are the one I share my life with
I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand
If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?
Michael Vaughn decided that he was the luckiest man in the world – he had the privilege of calling himself Sydney Bristow’s boyfriend. THE Sydney Bristow. The girl who was the fantasy of every male on the planet. The beautiful, sexy, honest, loving, “perfect” Sydney Bristow was his. She has his to hold, to protect, to love so completely that it was hard for him to breathe. She was his to run baths for, to walk with, and to kiss. She was his to comfort, to sleep next to, to whisk away on romantic breaks to Santa Barbara, where he was fully planning on getting down on one knee, telling her exactly how much he loved her and asking her to do him the honour of being his forever.
He grinned as he pulled up at the red light and fingered the ring box in his pocket. He’d dropped Syd off and gone to pick up the simple, but elegant, square cut diamond and platinum ring that he knew was perfect for her, before heading for the debriefing which he was currently late for.
As he sat in the heavy traffic, he pictured Syd’s expression (hopefully smiling with those beautiful dimples of hers on full display) as he said the 28 words he had planned in his head as she threw her pager into the vast depths of the Pacific:
“Sydney Anne Bristow, I have loved you since you came crashing into my life with that crazy hair. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
He could picture her on their wedding day, walking down the aisle towards him on Jack’s arm, drawing gasps at her beauty from the gathered congregation, her beautiful brown eyes full of tears and a large smile on her face as Jack stared proudly at his daughter. He could envisage their large house with white picket face, their dog, the moment that she told him she was expecting his child, the birth of their child following a long labour throughout which she remained strong despite the pain she was in. He could see his daughter’s face, the dark curls and dimples which were the tell tale signs that she was her mother’s daughter, the green eyes that showed she was his. He imagined her first smile, laugh, steps, the arrival of brothers and sisters for her until he pretty much had his hockey team. He could picture their first dates, their wedding days, the births of their children. He could envisage his whole life and Sydney Bristow was by his side for every step of it.
The honk of a horn from behind, pulled him from his blissful daydream as he moved off into the traffic and headed towards the Ops Centre for the debriefing, which, whilst it lasted for 4 hours, was uninformative. After a short conversation with Weiss he headed back to his car and set off for Syd’s apartment.
TBC?
What do you think? I already have the rest of the fic written out on paper, but have to type it up, but won’t bother if no one likes it
Thanx
Lara
